And He Knew It
by jikasnow
Summary: Dallas Winston's last thoughts before he dies. One-shot.


Johnny was dead. Johnny Cade- The only thing Dallas Winston had the nerve to truly, honestly care about had been stolen away from him; All in a single night.  
All in a single night, they had won the huge rumble between the Socs and Greasers. All in a single night, Johnny had died. All in a single night, Dallas had lost it and now he was laying there in the middle of the lot, slowly dying and regretting ever robbing that store. He didn't want to die any more not now that he had been shot and was looking death in the face.

He did rob that convenience store. That was the first mistake he had been stupid enough to make. Stupid, so stupid. Of _course_ he was trying to get the fuzz after him. He simply could not deal with the fact that Johnny died. Things were happening too fast, and just when he thought his life had made a turning point, the only one he cared about just keeled over and died on him. Now, the same thing was about to happen to himself. He regretted it. The cops chasing after him, he had ran as fast as he possibly could to the lot after calling Darry. Actually, he didn't really know why he had decided to call Darry, he just kind of did. Maybe he already knew he was going to die- _Of course_ he knew he was going to die that day, because Dallas Winston always got what he wanted, and at the moment, he truly wanted to die. He just wanted someone to know what happened, first. He wanted to leave proof that he was alive once. If only he hadn't pulled that heater, he thought. That was his second mistake. Johnny wouldn't have wanted this, because now it was Dally who was laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, dying and regretting everything while his friends had to put together the pieces. Dallas couldn't move at all, and it even hurt to breathe. He was getting weaker by the second, only being able to regret and hate.

Because he hated Johnny for going and dying on him. He hated the Socs for acting like they were better than everyone else. He hated Sylvia for two-timing him. He hated those stupid kids who got caught in that church fire. However, the one who he hated the most was himself. He was the one who caused all this to happen, and he knew it pretty well.

If it weren't for him, they never would have decided to sneak into the movies that night, and they never would have met that cute broad, Cherry Valance. If they hadn't met her, Johnny and Ponyboy might not have been jumped; Johnny would never have killed that dumb Soc. Then, they wouldn't have had to run away and cause so much worry for the gang. Then, everyone would be safe and sound. Then, Johnny would never have died, and Dallas himself wouldn't be dying. That was a fact. He should have thought his actions out more, because all he ever did was cause trouble for the gang; his only friends.

Heck, maybe he shouldn't have even moved to Tulsa from New York. Maybe if he was still in New York, things would be different. It was probably his fault things were so rough here. If he could have just stayed in New York, maybe the Greasers' reputation wouldn't be as bad. Maybe Soda and Darry would be more successful and Johnny wouldn't be so miserable. Maybe Johnny would be alive, too. Dally truly was a no-good hood. He knew it, too. Even so, he still didn't care none.

Now that he thought about it, however, maybe dying wasn't something regrettable, after all. Dallas didn't believe in Satan and he surely didn't believe in any God, but he knew he wasn't headed for wherever Johnny was headed. And that didn't matter to him anymore. Maybe if he didn't know the gang, everyone would have a slightly easier life. Of course, Dallas Winston would probably still be running around as a hood, breaking all the laws and sleeping out in the rain on some park bench somewhere. He was on a road headed to nowhere his entire life, he thought. Now, he had finally reached the end of that road. Here was nowhere. As he finally began to fade, he mustered up enough strength to smile slightly; Dallas Winston always got what he wanted. He was born a no-good and he died no-good, completely deserving everything he'd got. And he knew it.


End file.
